


Unsettled Dreams (Who Says It's Ice Remix)

by Neverever



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Cold, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Steve Has Issues, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9659519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever
Summary: Steve can't seem to get warm as he spends a lot of time by himself in the Tower. And Tony doesn't seem to be himself either.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laire (laireshi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [some say, in ice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7717573) by [laireshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi). 



> This is a remix of laireshi's some say, in ice. I started from a point of what happened to Steve and the fic spun off from there. Hope you like it!
> 
> Big thanks to the beta.

As Steve passed the kitchen island, he noticed a small pile of fan mail which shouldn’t be there. Fan mail was always scanned, vetted and organized by the Stark Industries public relations team each morning and dispatched to the appropriate Avenger. Maybe the mail had been delayed for some reason, since it was now past lunchtime. Someone needed to respond. Steve didn’t have any plans for the immediate future, so it seemed he was the man for the job.

He grabbed some coffee and a few cookies from the pantry and settled down for an hour of answering mail. He felt the paper cut as soon as he opened the second envelope. I guess even super soldiers get paper cuts, he thought wryly. At least he didn’t bleed on the kids’ drawings of Iron Man and the other Avengers.

It was snowing again. Steve didn’t know they were expecting another storm. He sipped his cooling coffee as he looked out the windows, shivering in the slight breeze from the ceiling vents. Strange, he was not usually cold.

“Hey, snow,” Tony said. He tossed a gadget from his pocket onto the kitchen island. “They say we’re going to get a few inches.”

“Oh?” replied Steve. He didn’t often get to see Tony like this -- crisp white dress shirt, gray pants, black shoes. He’d lost his suit coat somewhere, and Steve could see the blue glow of the RT unit peeking through his shirt. Sure would be nice if Tony dressed up like this more often. Not that Steve was ever going to complain about the black top Tony usually wore.

“Hmm, mail’s late,” Tony said. He sorted through the brightly colored kids’ drawings of the Avengers, then said to Steve, “I’ll be in the workshop for awhile.”

“Catch you later,” Steve said to Tony’s retreating back.

Steve couldn’t shake the weird, unsettled feeling. He ran his hand through his hair and looked around. Late afternoon winter sun filtered through the windows, casting long shadows over the island and the granite counters. He placed his mug in the empty dishwasher. The kitchen was remarkably clean and tidy for a place where several adults lived. Like a photo from Architectural Digest.

And the Tower was so quiet that Steve could hear the creak of the building as it moved in the wind. Sounded a lot like the constant creak of the ice around him as he hibernated. Now he was just imagining things.

He decided to work out to clear his head.

~~~~~

For some reason Tony picked the middle of January to have the entire Avengers Tower painted and redecorated. The living room was mostly bare except for the huge leather couches covered by pale tan drop cloths. The walls had a skim of ice-blue paint already. Steve’s footsteps echoed in the empty room.

He could see the snow coming down heavily now and the wind picking up. Blizzard conditions. He shivered even wearing a thick sweater. Maybe Tony had turned the heat down since no one was using the room.

Steve knew Tony was in the room before Tony even spoke. “There you are.”

He was leaning against the door jamb. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, pushing the wavy black hair into place as he smiled at Steve. “Pepper tells me that the painters are doing a good job.” Tony strode into the room, still in a gray business suit with ice blue tie and matching four-square in the pocket.

Since he’d come out of the ice nearly ten years ago, Steve’s life had been so entwined with Tony’s that Steve couldn’t imagine life without him. Even in the dark times when they fought and barely spoke, Steve knew deep in his heart he couldn’t find a better person to have at his side than Tony to fight the bad guys. 

Except Tony’s smile had a way of making Steve feel complicated. And feeling complicated made Steve’s head ache and his stomach tie up in knots. And it’s not like Steve had a great track record with dating co-workers. 

“I’m going to install a huge flatscreen right there,” Tony said as he waved at the empty wall. 

“Hmm,” Steve replied. He felt the Tower sway with the wind and heard the sound of cracking ice again.

“Depends on the interior designer,” Tony said, as he trailed a finger through the light layer of dust on the covered couches. 

“Nothing wrong with the room before.”

Tony shook his head. “The team wears the furniture out faster than I can replace it. The last supervillain attack ruined the floor too.” He pointed to the cold gray concrete exposed by partially torn-up wooden floor. 

“Interested in dinner?” Tony asked. He shrugged off his suit coat, obviously not as cold as Steve.

“Sure,” Steve said. 

Tony ordered delivery from a place around the corner. “Just you and me tonight,” he joked as he unloaded the delivery bag.

“Where is everyone?” Steve asked. He hadn’t seen anyone since except Tony since lunch. 

Tony shrugged. “Out and about, I guess.”

Steve poured soda for them both. “Can you put ice in mine?” Tony asked. 

Steve grabbed the ice bin out of the freezer. He dropped it on the counter, sending ice cubes skittering across the countertop and the floor. Tony laughed harshly.

“Here’s your order,” Tony said, pushing a plate over to Steve.

Steve looked dubiously at the congealed mass in front of him. Then he nearly choked on the frozen noodles. “Is your food cold too?” 

Tony shook his head. “No, it’s as hot as when it came out of the wok.” Steve saw the steam wafting from Tony’s noodles.

“It’s strange that they’d send out frozen food,” Steve said, poking at his plate. 

Tony reached over and twirled a few noodles onto his fork. “Nope -- it’s not cold to me.” 

They ate in uncharacteristic silence, bathed in the cool light from the ceiling fixture that barely touched the dark shadows in the room. Steve looked over at Tony lost in thought, as unreachable as the moon.

Picking up his plate, Tony said, “I’m off to the workshop. Lots to do.”

~~~~~

Steve tossed and turned all night. When he closed his eyes, he dreamed of being in the ice again. The nightmare repeated itself over and over. Sometimes he’d be awake while trapped in the ice, sometimes he’d hear water freeze as it covered his body. Through it all, he could hear the sound of ice cracking and shifting.

And he could not get warm, even with extra blankets and sleeping in his workout clothes. He shivered uncontrollably as he desperately tried to snuggle under the covers, chasing elusive warmth.

All the team had their nightmares and night terrors. Steve wasn’t an exception. The dreams of ice and waking up in a different century were a constant in his life. But tonight’s dreams felt real, like he was encased in ice and submerged in the north Atlantic all over again. 

He sat up and swung his legs off the bed, his head pounding from all-too-real nightmares. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes as the light stabbed them.

Tony was standing in the doorway. “Awake, sleepyhead?”

“What time is it?”

“Probably too late or too early, depending on how you view it,” Tony replied with a wintry smile. “But I have all these ideas running through my head that I just can’t shake.”

They had coffee in the kitchen at 4 am. Just the two of them in a large chilly room. Steve’s super-sensitive hearing could usually pick up the faint sounds of the mechanical workings of the Tower. He couldn’t hear anything. 

Tony studied him over the edge of his coffee mug with his brilliant blue eyes. Steve said nothing. He knew Tony as well as he knew himself, even considering the blind spots. He loved Tony like a brother, like his right arm, like his shield. 

Tony smiled beautifully at him. “I’ve been working on this new armor,” he said.

What would happen if Steve reached out and took Tony’s hand? Right here, right now? Finally bridge that gaping chasm between being a friend to being a boyfriend?

An alarm went off in the back of his mind and he squashed any ideas of trying something with Tony. He hadn’t for ten years. Why should he now?

~~~~~

Steve spent the day in silence and completely alone. He worked out in the gym, which felt like an icebox. He ate lunch in the frigid kitchen where he noticed ice forming on the corners of the windows. He spent the afternoon reading in the library for a few hours, piling on blankets and drinking a lot of coffee. 

By dinner time, Steve pondered if it would be weird for him to put on a wool winter coat. He didn’t usually need a coat, but he couldn’t seem to shake the chill that had settled in his bones. He hoped the team wouldn’t say anything. Then he realized he hadn’t seen anyone since Tony at 4 am. 

He stepped into the hallway and found Tony.

Tony’s new armor gleamed under the hallway’s fluorescent lights. All chrome and blue lights, sleek and powerful. Steve could feel goosebumps on his arms as he stared at Tony’s electric blue eyes. 

“You like?” Tony teased as he turned around. 

“Wow,” Steve breathed out. 

“Yeah, wanted to try something different,” Tony said with a wink.

“Free for dinner? Maybe we could go out --?”

“No can do. I’ve got a date tonight and I’m running late.”

Steve ate dinner in his room. He didn’t do that often, but he felt the room was slightly warmer than the large empty spaces in the Tower, and he was desperate for warmth. He couldn’t find anything to watch since, oddly, the cable was out and the internet on the fritz. 

He should probably be more worried about that, but he was sunk in a funk, thinking of Tony out on a date. Tony had plenty of dates and special friends he brought around the Tower, this shouldn’t be any different. Steve took Tony’s simple statement of being on a date like a blow, a reminder that Tony would always be out of his reach. 

Maybe that’s the way it was meant to be. 

~~~~~

Steve had restless dreams again that night. He dreamt of glaciers and icebergs and deep snow he couldn’t dig through. He walked through shifting fields of cracking and groaning ice, feeling blasts of arctic air ripping through his cold weather gear like he was wearing nothing. 

He woke up. Not in his bedroom. He was chained to a wall in what looked like a freezer. 

He yanked on the chains and was barely able to move them. A hissing creature hovered nearby that nearly burned him with an icy touch. 

Steve woke again in his bedroom and stared at his ceiling. He sighed. Maybe Tony was up and about, back from his date.

He found Tony in Tony’s bedroom. “Hey, Tony -- you up?” Steve asked, knocking on the door.

“Come on in, Steve.” Tony replied.

Steve pushed open the door, noting that it didn’t open automatically. Maybe there was something wrong with Tony’s Tower systems. That would explain the cold. 

Tony turned over in his bed and Steve saw a flash of all his assets before Tony wrapped himself in the purple satin sheets. Tony grinned as he stretched like a cat. Steve’s mouth went dry as he watched Tony move, the glossy sheet slipping off his bare shoulders. 

“I’m, uh, surprised you’re back from your date.”

“Didn’t work out.” Tony shrugged a deliciously bare shoulder.

“Sorry about that.”

Tony laughed wickedly. “No, you’re not. Not at all.”

The alarm in Steve’s head rang loudly. This was Not Tony and he was not in the Tower. The image of being chained in a freezer flashed through his mind. 

“Where’s Tony?” Steve demanded.

Tony sat up in bed with a quizzical look on his face. “Hey, Steve, old buddy, are you okay?”

“I’m getting better,” Steve said warily.

“Good.” Tony shifted in the bed and patted the empty spot next to him, giving Steve a dazzling white smile. “How about you join me? I can warm you up better than your long johns.” 

Steve sucked in a deep breath. He usually had a good grip on reality. But this was feeling less and less real to him. In nearly ten years, Tony had never so much as indicated that he was aware of Steve’s potential as a romantic partner. And though Tony had a tendency to go from 0 to 60 in a second flat, Tony wouldn’t proposition Steve this way. Or at least he would have bought Steve dinner first. 

“This isn’t real.” 

“You’re getting what you want, why question it?” Tony asked, giving Steve a come-hither-look that went straight to Steve’s groin.

‘Not Tony. Not Tony. Not Tony,’ Steve’s mind chanted. He wanted to believe what Tony’s words and actions promised. He wanted. He wanted Tony so goddamned much, and all he had to do was reach out and take what he wanted, what was being offered freely to him.

Tony would not have let him get cold.

Steve wore long johns and a turtleneck and a sweater and tactical pants. The temperature had been turned up as high as the thermostat would go. And he was cold. So cold his core couldn’t get warm. 

Tony would not let him eat cold food or be alone or let Steve be uncomfortable for one damn second of his life, even if that meant using his own blood, sweat, and tears to fix the problem.

The false Tony in front of him got out of bed and walked over to Steve. He shifted just enough that the bathrobe he was wearing slipped further down his shoulder, revealing his collarbone and upper chest. Making sure that Steve was watching, he shimmied closer. 

“Like what you see?” Tony asked huskily, his voice seductive to Steve’s ears.

Tony did not act like this. Tony was not _cruel._

“What do you want, Cap?” Tony’s movement stirred an icy breeze around Steve. A step closer and his warm body would be within arm’s reach of Steve.

If he just reached out and snagged Tony around the waist, he could have what he’d always wanted. What he’d wanted within minutes of waking from the ice, before he’d even known Tony’s name. Before he’d known Tony’s brilliance and bravery and steadfast heart. 

Tony would save him.

“Just ask,” Tony urged. The tie of his robe came undone, and Steve could see Tony was completely naked under the robe. His eyes were irresistibly drawn to the tempting possibilities if the robe slipped even further. “What do you want, oh Captain?”

“For Tony to rescue me,” Steve gasped.

“But I’m Tony,” Tony insisted.

“No. You’re not.”

In the next breath, the bedroom faded away like a mirage, revealing the freezing prison Steve was chained up in. The false Tony still stood before him. “What’s wrong with you?” hissed Not Tony.

“Wrong with me?” Steve asked.

The false Tony dropped the Tony disguise and now appeared as a demonic creature with ice-blue-tipped flames on his head and tail. 

“You have no idea,” it snarled, “how hard it was to dig out of your soul what you wanted most of all in the world. I found it and offered it to you, and instead you give it all up for your pathetic reality. What do you have waiting for you now?”

Steve had lived a lot in ten years and he’d heard the evil monologue before. 

“What do you want?” he asked the demon with a heavy sigh.

“To torture you, to wring the goodness out of your soul, to steal your warmth. I could dine on you for years.”

It was a only matter of time before Tony came to save him. He knew Tony would come -- he just hoped Tony came before he died listening to another tedious evil monologue. 

The ice encasing his legs and arms wasn’t helping his mood much either. He could barely move.

“He won’t come for you. He doesn’t love you like you deserve,” the demon hissed. “He doesn’t even know that you are here. You are mine now.”

Tony would come. Tony would know. 

Steve was slipping away. He could feel his body shutting down for hibernation. 

“You love in vain. He doesn’t care. I know that from you. You know the truth.”

“Shut up,” Steve snapped. The ice demon was clearly a mouthy bastard and was going to harangue him to death.

“You’ll love him a million years and he’ll never love you back. I would have given that to you,” the demon continued.

“STEVE!” shouted Tony.

Steve stirred enough to try to find the source of Tony’s voice.

“HANG IN THERE, CAP!” 

“Lies, all lies,” the demon whispered. “You’re lying to protect yourself from the truth.”

A portal opened in the wall and Steve could see Doctor Strange, with Luke and Logan holding back a distraught Tony, the rest of the team ringed around them. 

The demon struck the portal several times, bolts of icy-blue fire shooting from its spindly fingers. Steve saw the portal flicker and shake. He held his breath. He had a lot of faith in his teammates and Strange, but he could tell the fight was going to take a while.

The cold seared his skin and the ice in the air ravaged his throat as he tried to breathe. He could barely keep his eyes open.

“STEVE, CAN YOU MOVE?” Tony pleaded hoarsely.

It was nice to hear Tony’s voice, even if it felt like Tony was miles and years away. Like Tony was a character in a story his mother had read to Steve when he was a boy, and Steve dreamed of red-and-gold tin men. 

Red and gold, the colors of summer and fire and warmth and life. 

He blinked a few times and stirred. Tony smiled down at him. Steve was lying in his lap under a tree in Central Park, the leafy canopy shading them from the sweltering summer heat.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Tony said fondly. 

“How long was I asleep?” Steve said, smiling back. He wanted to reach up to touch Tony’s warm skin and brush a thumb across Tony’s lips.

“Too long,” Tony replied. “Too long.”

“You would not believe what I just dreamed --” Steve started. He closed his eyes, wanting to lie there longer, soaking up the sunlight, the sweet smell of grass and the noise of people having fun around them.

“We’ll get you home, Steve,” Tony said, his voice sounding small and choked.

“I’m home now,” Steve replied. He opened his eyes to find Tony cutting through the chains holding him to the wall.

“Not yet,” Tony said grimly. “Strange is fighting the demon. I’ve got five minutes to spring you.”

“Oh,” Steve replied dully. He had no fight left in him, no strength to help Tony with the heavy chains.

Finally, Tony freed him and Steve collapsed against him. “Dammit, Steve. We should have been here sooner. A week, dammit, you’ve been here a week. You almost died.”

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters,” Steve said. He blurted out, “I love you.”

“Steve. I don’t deserve --” Tony chuffed, a fond look in his eyes. “I love you too, Steve, I do. But right now, we have to get you free.” 

He wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “Okay, guys, I’ve got him.”

Tony pushed him through the portal into the Avengers’ living room. Maybe it was a different room in a different Tower. Steve was disoriented. Tony steadied him as he wobbled when he tried to stand up.

Exhausted by his fight with the demon, Strange waved a hand at Steve. “He is free of the demon,” Strange proclaimed. 

The team crowded around Steve, who clung to Tony. 

“Let’s get you to your room. We’re going to spoil you rotten until you’re better,” Tony declared.

“You mean by tonight then,” Logan growled.

“Ignore him,” Tony said as he dragged Steve toward his room. “We messed up, Cap. Big time.” 

Steve was too weak to protest and still felt the cold in his bones. As Tony nudged him into bed, Steve fumbled for Tony’s hand. 

“I meant what I said,” Steve told him. “I love you.”

Tony brushed Steve’s hair back and kissed his forehead. “I don’t know how you can say that after I failed to rescue you for a week.”

“You came, I’m fine, and I love you.”

“I meant what I said too. I love you, too.” He took Steve’s hand in his. “We’ll talk about it when you’re better.”

“Don’t go,” Steve said. 

“I won’t. I won’t ever leave.”


End file.
